


You are My Home

by xhiro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Teikou Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xhiro/pseuds/xhiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit after Teikou's final tournament Kuroko starts camping out in the school library. Kise becomes an uninvited guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are My Home

**Author's Note:**

> I had to repost this fic because basketballs destroyed literally half this fic so I don't remember what snarky comments I had on here before, but basically Kuroko is pissed off at Teikou. Please enjoy
> 
> Also third years usually retire after the summer tournament so I'm gonna go with that timeline!

On days when they had no practice, Kuroko had spent them in the library. Combing the shelves for a hint, something to point him down the right path. The librarian had come to recognize him by his soundless step as he crossed the door. 

Now that autumn was over, he had more time than ever. He was unused to the hours of freedom, hours he used to spend occupied by his hobby-but these days he found the sport more of a question than an answer. It was also the only place in the school they tended to avoid. Drifting between the columns, he found an old friend and curled up in a dusty corner.

The room was always just a little too warm when they cranked up the heater in the winter, with the glow of twilight filtering through the curtains, and the seats hard and blunt. The library was always wide and empty after school. Students retreated quickly from the school building like it was an offence, but Kuroko found the empty room to be a shelter. The silence was like a lullaby, and he always found himself drifting to sleep in spite of himself, dreaming of a wanderer alone in the night.

(The wanderer was always alone. He didn't seem to have a destination, but he was always headed one way in the cold dark night. The path he took was winding, but there it lay in front of him. So close, it wasn't possible for him to lose his way.

There was a chirp, and then another. A high melody slithered into the wanderer's ear. Where was it coming from? He could turn his head to look. He just had to turn his head to look. It was just beyond his vision.

He always woke before he had the chance to see what it was.)

It started raining when Kuroko took his usual spot by the window. The room was warmed to discomfort as per usual, but there was a lingering coldness in the dark corners that the heater didn't quite reach.

He stood up, laying the novel with its deep red cover onto the table, and walked over to observe the phenomenon. With a hand against the smooth pane, Kuroko felt the cold pressure against his fingers. He pressed back.

Down below, past the veil of droplets, were students rushing to get home. He spotted two second-year underclassmen from the club. One of them splashed the other with his umbrella and Kuroko watched with a hint of amusement as he proceeded to chase his aggressor down the street with his bag held above his head, promising revenge. His fingertips followed the two boys until they were out of sight-whether from yearning or jealousy he didn't know.

An unusual clatter at the door drew his attention away from the view. There was a hushed conversation as the librarian berated the newcomer for dripping rainwater all over the floor with his entrance. Kuroko languidly drifted his eyes over the scene. His eyes stopped at the familiar crop of loud blond hair. 

With a rushed apology, the blond tried to hurry past, presumably to hide himself in one of the cubicles, when he spotted Kuroko and stopped in his tracks. Their eyes locked.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Kise commented casually as he made his way over, shrugging off his jacket into the crook of his arm. He could see the smile tugging on the corners of his lips, unsure of where to settle. An interesting statement Kuroko thought, since hiding necessitated something to avoid.

He turned the question on him instead. "What are you hiding from?"

"The rain mostly," the smile decided on his lips, nestling itself comfortably. He saw Kise's arms twitch and for a moment he thought he was going to try to hug him, but his arms remained where they were. "I missed you."

It was an uncharacteristic statement for Kise, Kuroko thought, even as the words navigated their way between them. They were uncharacteristic because of the look in his eyes. They were a strong contrast to the tight way that Kise held himself in that moment. The boy in front of him was a distortion of the past and Kuroko wondered whether a few months could pass for a lifetime.

"Ow-!" Kise yelped when Kuroko struck him on the forehead, the movement clumsy from disuse. The librarian shot them a dark look.

"Please save those lines for your fans, Kise-kun."

Kise laughed quietly in spite of himself and averted his eyes. "...I missed you all the same."

He only cried out a little the second time Kuroko chopped him.

 

✈

 

Light novels aimed at a younger audience were an easy read. They were a nice break from the books that covered complex abstract ideas that Kuroko sometimes perused. This book was no different with its story about an average girl in high school with no friends. The raw emotional themes it touched on were also universal and easy for the reader to relate to regardless of their identity. 

Sneaking a peek from behind the pages, Kuroko discovered that yes, Kise was still there. 

The boy had stayed behind for some reason. Surprisingly, he hadn't tried to engage Kuroko in conversation. Kuroko had, of course, not given him any opportunity to do so, immediately trying to shut him out by burying his nose in his book-but that had never stopped Kise before. Kise, who had the tenacity of a raging bull, who was trying pointedly not to play with his cellphone. 

Somehow Kuroko thought that the teen was not terribly interested in the autobiography of Mahatma Gandhi as the tome laid abandoned on its side. The slight vibrating of the table was also a sign that Kise was jiggling his foot distractedly.

Kuroko didn't need a telepathic cellphone in his mind to know what Kise was thinking. 

But he was still bitter and pettiness was a learned habit at the age of fourteen-so he turned another page.

Finally, after an hour, there were abrupt shuffling noises in front of Kuroko announcing an intention to leave. He couldn't help the chord of tension that relaxed in his body. He didn't realize he had been holding himself so tightly.

"Can I..." Kise started abruptly, licking his lips, "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Kuroko's fingers tightened on the spine of his book. Fingers created new creases and wrinkles. He tried to look through Kise.

"You don't need my permission to come to the library, Kise-kun." He responded in a low voice. It wasn't an admission, nor a reprimand, so Kise's eyes shouldn't have gone distant the way they did.

He tugged on the strap of his schoolbag. "No... I guess I don't," The smile looked a little loose this time.

It continued to rain.

 

✈

 

The blond did show up the next day a wreck of messy hair and disheveled clothing. The poor weather had continued. A droplet skidded down Kise's cheek to join the others who had pooled around his collar.

Pale eyes looked at the boy wordlessly before they slipped back into the dry pages and drowned in a blur of lines and printed colours-which was as much an admission as Kuroko was willing to give.

A chair slid into place in front of him which he carefully ignored. 

The hour passed much like the one before. The book lying across the table from Kise today was a Junior High school student's guide to physics upside-down. Kuroko felt the chord of tension from yesterday resurfacing and tried to concentrate on Murakami's words.

Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.

 

✈

 

(The wanderer stayed just a moment too long. 

The sweet siren song of the bird kept him in his place. It crawled into his ear, coaxing its way into his heart, uttering soothing sounds and words so gentle and harmless in their nature that the doors opened of their own accord. How could something so fragile hurt him? 

The endless road that used to call out to him, give him his purposeful gait, was replaced by the paralyzing melody of stasis. The numbness spread from his heart into every limb, until every fingertip felt like a foreign appendage. And it was such a sweet stasis that the wanderer tasted, lotuses calling in full bloom.

But if a wanderer stopped wandering, then what was to become of him? What was his name? The night watched on silently as a pitiless monument. Even a twice-cursed bird could only cry out in pity.

"The poor, poor wandering man!")

 

✈

 

The realization hit him one day that he was dreading the library. The place that had become his last sanctuary.

Kuroko was late today. He had cleaning duty and had to throw the garbage out behind the school so he was delayed.

As his steps drew closer to the library, so did the sense of dread in his stomach to the point where he had to pause before the door. Beyond this threshold was the certainty that Kise would be waiting there. A straw-haired scarecrow whose disguise was barely passing. Kuroko clenched his fist. He refused to be afraid.

He tried to recall what he used to think about during his walk to the warm room before the blond came crashing in and occupying every dark corner. He thought perhaps it was about what he would read next, or how sometimes just-a-little-too-warm could be the perfect temperature. Now he spent it devising ways to pointedly ignore the eyesore.

It was a lose-lose situation on all fronts.

The door slid open with a shuddering sigh.

A quick scan around the room located the bright crown of hair. He was always sticking out like a sore thumb in this place, a splash of colour on a dark canvas. He didn't belong there.

Somewhere louder suited him. Somewhere more colourful, where he could strain his muscles to the point of screaming. Somewhere where locating those shoulders stretched out, the outline of his back in motion, was like taking a slice of time. Kuroko tried to figure out how to perfectly slot into those fingers, hands already poised to make the move. He could hear the distant cheer of a crowd in the back of his mind.

(And faintly, "We were no match after all." The floor gave beneath Kuroko and he had to remind himself that it was carpet and not hardwood.)

"Kise-kun."

Kise fell backwards out of his seat and managed to hit his head on the table at the same time. It was always enjoyable for Kuroko to watch as people nearly upended tables at his greetings. He may have relished in it more than usual.

"Ku... Kurokocchi."  _When did you get here? How long have you been standing there?_  His eyes seemed to communicate wildly.

Kuroko watched as Kise set his chair upright and tried to effect a look of effortlessness again. "Why are you here?"

"I'm... studying," a quick glance down at the book on the ground. "Card tricks."

"For elementary school students."

"Yes."

Kise must've sounded unconvincing even to himself since he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, head bowed. The clumsy gesture made Kuroko harden his resolve as he realized his next course of action. It filled him with calm. This was what the last few days had been building up to, hadn't it? He steeled his voice.

"What are you trying to accomplish by coming here, Kise-kun?"

Kise looked back up sharply, snapping to attention at those words.

"What?" Slowly, the wild look in his eyes returned, settling across his features, and Kise didn't seem to realize he had stood up again.

 "Even if you come here everyday," Kuroko's voice sounded hard to his own ears, "It doesn't change anything."

When he looked across from him, Kise's evenly-featured face was slowly turning into an angry splotch of red as understanding dawned on him. The colour blossomed in uneven ruddy patches on his face and he struggled to stammer out his next words.

"I... I wasn't... I didn't." He opened and closed his mouth a few times silently before swallowing and beginning the process all over again. He looked so scandalized. Kise who always arranged his face, who always had some carefully put-together expression at the ready-he was red-faced and gaping wordlessly at Kuroko who just looked on coldly.

Kise grabbed his things in a hurry and ran out of the library, ignoring the librarian's sharp warnings that followed him out.

Kuroko glanced outside.

The past increases, the future recedes. 

(Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.)

 

✈

 

Kuroko ducked past a stammering couple in the hallway on his way to the library. He heard a girlish squeal of delight behind him as he shut the door so the boy must have accepted her chocolate. Good for her.

The large room was even emptier than usual and that might have been a result of the festivities outside. The quiet of the library loomed over the room and Kuroko wondered if it was due to that as well.

It had been a few days since the altercation. Kise had not made a reappearance. This was the unsurprising, expected result of what happened. It was probably a good thing that the library was now free of all eyesores and distractions. Yet somehow the dark corners that used to greet Kuroko seemed to stretch out into opaque shadows. They flickered with the fluorescent lights. Kuroko shivered.

It was probably because he was always facing away from the sun, he decided. He got out of his seat and took the one opposite him instead that faced the window.

From his new vantage point Kuroko found himself noticing many things he didn't notice before, like the cobwebs in the upper right corner that no one seemed to have been able to reach, the educational posters that hung on the bulletin board with their frightening images, the way he could hear and feel the librarian's presence just past the shelf behind him-this had been Kise's view.

He stretched his feet out and didn't reach all the way across to the other end of the desk. He remembered with a frown the model's long legs bumping into his under the table. He glanced down at the table's surface and noticed a little drawing in the corner. Kuroko did remember Kise doodling on it whenever he got bored (because everyone Kuroko associated with was an absolute delinquent). His fingers traced over the little lines of the squiggly basketball. He noticed other doodles sprawling out across the expanse of this side of the table and really, no wonder the librarian hated Kise. His fingers followed the lines of the little basketball nets and jerseys, the shogi pieces and lucky cats, and his fingers stopped at a particularly complex drawing.

Kuroko squinted as he looked closer at it, trying to figure out what it was. This one was much more detailed than the others and it looked like it had been erased several times and drawn over again. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it looked like a person with a messy scrawl of hair. His breath hitched at the number fifteen written on his shirt.

Maybe Kise hadn't been spending the entire time staring into space. Yes, Kuroko had been looking at Kise, watching him for any signs, any hints of hesitation, but had he ever really been seeing him? He ran a finger along the numbers again.

One and five. Like the numbers on a jersey. Or the number of players on a team. Or an argument with no resolution.

As if on cue, there was a fantastic clatter at the door again. It was soon followed by the sounds of weary scolding and rehearsed apologies.

He didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"Kurokoc... Hi." Kise squeaked out. He was still standing near the doorway with his back uncomfortably straight. His arms were stiff at his side and it looked a little like he was about to salute his commander and greet the president at the same time. The expression on his face seemed to suggest he hadn't decided which it was yet either. His hair, for some reason, was in a president parting.

Without his mind fully made up yet, Kuroko was at a loss for what to say as well, so he just stared back. That only seemed to put Kise more on edge because Kuroko's stare was quite unnerving.

Kise eyed the door hopefully, and Kuroko was prepared to watch him run out the door when he abruptly had a flower shoved in his face. To be more specific, a camellia. Kuroko blinked at the poorly constructed origami flower and then at Kise for an explanation.

He was met with wide-eyes, lips pressed firmly in resolution, and slightly shaking shoulders. Kise was either going to punch Kuroko or sweep him into a dramatic hug. Kuroko squared his shoulders just in case. What he wasn't prepared for were the words that came out of Kise's mouth next.

"I'm sorry!"

He burst out and made a few people sitting nearby jump in their seats from the volume. But Kuroko wasn't paying them any attention because he was focused on the way Kise's eyes were glossy, and if he wanted to run away so badly why was he here apologizing?

"I didn't," he took huge gulps of air as he continued since he used up all his breath with each word, "I didn't mean anything. By, by coming here. Everyday. I just..." He wrung his free hand uselessly in the air, looking for the right word, before he finally let it drop. He leveled Kuroko with an intense stare, flower in hand, and explained simply, "I just missed you."

Kise stood up straight again and bit down his lip after the confession. He didn't say anything further and just stared at Kuroko. For some reason, with the way his fist was balled at his side, the way the line of his shoulders was tight, he looked like he was preparing for the strike that Kuroko would inevitably send his way. If that wasn't an indication of just how Kuroko had been acting the last few weeks.

Taking a closer look at the offering, the yellow origami flower had been really badly made. The creases weren't well folded, there were too many from being unfolded and refolded several times to make it perfect, and the stem was taped on. Checking back in his memory, Kuroko remembered that they had been making origami for art class this week. He just didn't remember any flowers being involved. The poor craftsmanship of the flower suggested that Kise hadn't coaxed one of the girls in the class to show him how to do it too. He had tried to make it on his own from the instructions. Something about that made Kuroko feel very warm inside.

It must've shown on his face since Kise stopped looking hunted.

Kuroko couldn't help the warmth tugging at his face and he smiled up at Kise as he took the flower into his hands. If Kise was willing to try and try again, then Kuroko was too.

"Thank you for your art homework, Kise-kun."

All the apprehension melted off of Kise's features and left a relieved, genuine grin back.

"You're welcome, Kurokocchi."

 

✈

 

So it somehow became a semi-regular occurrence that Kise spent some days with Kuroko in the library. This time though, Kuroko didn't entirely try to shut Kise out and they sometimes passed the time talking like actual friends or discussing the books Kuroko was reading.

"You're missing the point, Kise-kun," Kuroko argued one particular after-school, "The protagonist in the book isn't concerned with that."

"What is he concerned with then?" Sometimes it seemed like Kise argued just for the sake of being contrary, the sulky expression on his face proof of that. 

Kuroko placed his hands flat on the table as a gesture of patience. "She is concerned with her existence. If a traveler is to stop traveling, then what becomes of them?"

"Well that just means she found something worth stopping for," he answered easily. Kuroko kept his hands flat on the table as a measure of self-restraint.

"What would that be?"

When the thoughtless response didn't come immediately, Kuroko looked up with a sense of foreboding.

Kise had on one of his sunniest looks, the kind of look where he felt very proud of whatever he was about to say, without an ounce of humility. It was the look he wore when charming notes out of his classmates.

"A home."

Kuroko wanted to throw a book at his face.

 

✈

 

Sometimes they passed the time like that, and more often sometimes, they started studying. Entrance exams were approaching. Kise had been recruited already, and Kuroko had exams to study for. But Kise still came to the library and helped him study.

Kuroko wondered where Kise was getting the time for all this. More often he was coming in looking haggard, or had to leave after ten minutes, but he still made sure to show up at least twice a week. Kuroko studied everyday in the library after school regardless of Kise's attendance. If he didn't come by five then Kuroko would go home.

It was starting to look like one of those days today too. The library was emptying out as even the most studious were starting to file home. Kuroko paused in the middle of putting his books away with the realization he had forgotten his math textbook. He made a quick trip back to the classroom.

As Kuroko made his way through the darkening halls, the setting sun streaming through the windows made the shadows stretch out across the floor. He had barely noticed the time passing, but it was already late. Time had been passing by much quicker lately and there weren't many days left until graduation.

This was probably one of the last times he was going to be walking through these halls like this.

Peering down at the courtyard from one of the windows, Kuroko spotted some first-years from the club again. Practice had just finished. One of them leaned against the other heavily with his gym bag knocking against him as they walked. Kuroko wondered if they were going to drop by the convenience store and get some post-practice ice pops. He had stopped doing that a while ago. Maybe they would stop by the time they were third-years too. Maybe in two years they would be standing here watching another pair of first-years.

He hurried over to the classroom.The library was closing soon. His steps echoed down the corridor as he made his way there.

 

When he came back to the library Kise was there.

He sat in his usual spot with his arms folded beneath him and his face buried in the folds of his sweater. His shoulders rose and fell slowly.

Kuroko closed the door behind him quietly as he walked over to his seat.

Kise looked in bad shape upon closer inspection. His hair was messy with his bangs all over his face. They were growing out. Kuroko suspected he hadn't had time recently to get it cut. The bags beneath his eyes were more pronounced than before. 

In between running all over to make it for work and studying for school Kise had made time to come to the library. Even if he fell asleep the moment he got there, he had made it.

Kuroko reached over to brush the blond strands out of his face. So much for a big time model. He needed so much pampering. Kuroko remembered the time Kise nearly turned their bus around because he had forgotten his favourite wristband in his locker with a grin.

But that was the kind of person he was. Once he found something he liked, he would treasure it. He would never allow it to be left behind.

"....uroko..?" Kise peeked open one gold eye to look at him.

"...I didn't know you were awake." Kuroko drew his hand back.

Kise tried to stifle a yawn unsuccessfully and sat up, stretching. "Wasn't. Woke up just now."

"I'm sorry for waking you." Kise shook his head. "What are you doing here, Kise-kun?"

"I saw your bag and stuff here, so I figured you were still around. Thought I'd wait for you." 

Kuroko fixed his gaze on him. The heavy bags under his eyes made him frown. "Kise-kun's been so busy lately. You didn't have to wait for me."

Kise shrugged his shoulders. "I'll always wait for you."

There was an easy look about him, as if he didn't realize the gravity of his statement. It might've been an accidental slip from just waking up, but between the flowers and apologies and candid expressions, he didn't think so. He looked at the mess of pen marks on the other side of the table and didn't think so. 

There was a drawing of a boy, erased and drawn again and again with painstaking detail, with the number fifteen across his jersey that was as good as a sonnet. There was the way Kise was looking at him, eyes wide and heart sideways, because he thought he wasn't looking.

The fleeting light through the windows dyed him in shades of purple and orange. It was getting difficult to distinguish the features of his face, the corners of his expression, but he still stood out. He was a splash of colour against a dark canvas and Kuroko suspected that if he framed Kise in this moment, he would make a perfect Italian renaissance, his features drawn to 1.618.

Maybe that was all it came down to. The sound of a distant plane, the smell of paper, the thought that it might be nice to go there one day with the person sitting across from you.

Kuroko gripped the bottom of his shirt tightly.

"Let's go home," Kise grinned at him finally.

 

✈

 

Kuroko was no great artisan so he didn't even bother with the origami, nor was he a great writer (and poetry seemed a bit much anyway), but he knew for a fact that Kise Ryota had not read a single actual book in all his time in the library.

He ran his fingers over the spines of some of his favourite books as he floated between the shelves. There was a part of him that was dubious as to whether Kise had read anything thicker than a volume of manga in the last three years, but he would have to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

He paused a moment in front of the hardcovers, considering one title over the over, before shaking his head and heading for the light novels.

At least there were pictures.

After a few more steps, Kuroko stalled. Sharing something that was so close to his heart was a little terrifying, the inner world that Kuroko usually reserved for himself. In some ways, it was the final barrier. He fingered the book in his hand absentmindedly and thought about the little yellow paper resting between its folded pages.

He had been waiting long enough.

 

✈

 

Kuroko found Kise sitting in the library like he had been waiting all his life. He was humming along to the music from his earphones, expression inviting, looking like he was born for that moment alone, and there was something about that that shook Kuroko to his core.

"Kise-kun," he called out barely, breathless, head humming with something. Kise's eyes fluttered open, his bright eyes turning to Kuroko, and that was all it took to bring him into focus as his surroundings blurred in the corners. He let out a surprised laugh and smiled wide at Kuroko, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Kurokocchi."

Lightheaded and a little delirious, Kuroko reached down slowly into his bag and held out a bundle to Kise, barely conscious of his actions.

Kise's attention shifted to the book held out to him and he looked at it curiously. He took it without another word and flipped through it, the pages lightly flapping against each other.

"Atop this crag, I am to spend another traveler's night; so cold," He read, tone flat, "-not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but why are you giving me your Japanese homework?" He interrupted himself in the middle of his reading.

"They're flowers."

The pages stopped flipping naturally. There was something stuck between its pages. It drew Kise's wide-eyed gaze back to the book and there nestled in the middle of the pages, with its little pointed blue petals, was a flower.

Kise stared at it, then back to Kuroko, then back to the book. His expression seemed to be warring with itself, trying to decide on something, as his cheeks gradually flushed with the realization it had been exactly a month since a dumb lovestruck boy had thrust his art homework at a boy whose hair was the shade of morning.

Kise's eyes glistened, the smile spreading across his face like the only possible conclusion.

"Thank you for the flowers, Kuroko."

Kuroko stared at the spot of warmth Kise occupied in the room, his features dazzling the room like a beacon.

In Kuroko's light novels, this would be the moment where time slows down, where violins would swell in the background with the coalescence of a smile.

The clock in the corner of the room ticked on normally and there was only the sound of a plane somewhere far away. There weren't any grand words and Kise's palms were dry and callused like any athletes. But they fit in Kuroko's hands, and the temperature was just a little too warm.

"You're welcome, Kise-kun."

 

✈

 

The sun is setting by the time they walk home, after a quick stop at the convenience store. It's at their eye level and making it difficult to look ahead. Kise is chatting Kuroko's ear off about something while he focuses on finishing his ice pop.

When there's a noticeable silence, Kuroko looks over and sees Kise eyeing him carefully. A well-worn expression that gives Kuroko a hint as to what's coming next.

"You're still set on not coming to Kaijou with me?"

"Yes," Kuroko answers, biting off the last part of his ice pop. The word 'win' glints back at him from the handle. He hands it over to Kise who takes it bemusedly.

"Can I at least know why?" He has a defeated expression of acceptance on his face, worn down from the number of times they've had this conversation, but he gets a free frozen treat at least, so it can't be all bad.

"We have eyes in the front of our heads so that we could look forward."

Kise laughs at the cryptic answer. It's a colourful sound. "Who said that?"

Kuroko looks away for a moment, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes. He squints at the bright, blinding future ahead of them, sinking slowly, but just beyond the path before them.

"I don't remember."

Kise elbows Kuroko for leading him on like that, but they walk down that road together, hand in hand, heading to that certain light.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and that person was Doraemon.
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading this fic!!! (I'm so sorry this had a confusing direction) I also apologize for writing the same kikuro fic twice basically


End file.
